


Cigs & Civility

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Cigarettes, Civil Conversation, Flashbacks, Gen, Making Up, Mentioned Greg Lestrade - Freeform, Mild Language, Missing Scene, Offering Congratulations, POV Sally Donovan, Post-Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, Sally Gets A Promotion, Sally Gets Answers, Sherlock Apologizes, Sherlock Asks For A Favor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 06:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: The day Sally gets her promotion to Detective Inspector, she and Sherlock have their first entirely civil conversation in the entire time they’ve known each other





	Cigs & Civility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3seconds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3seconds/gifts).



> This is a combination of backstory and missing scene fic. I've wanted to write a more interesting missing scene fic between Sally and Sherlock where they make amends, and **3seconds** asked for one about Sherlock and Sally backstory for my countdown to 900 Sherlock fics, saying “ _I’d love to read your take on why she calls him 'freak'_ ” So I combined the two into this fic, which I hope is okay (if it's not, let me know and I will write you something else).

_“Sergeant Donovan, meet our newest consultant, Sherlock Holmes.”_

_She’d had no reason to be wary until the instant he looked at her. The look he gave her. Piercing gaze that looked as though he was studying her down to the bone, studying her inside and out. As though he was judging her by bit and parcel, measuring her worth, whether she would be an asset or a hindrance._

_And hindrance was what she came up, quick as a flash._

_Bollocks that._

_She had enough of that shite from the blokes in the Met, didn’t need it here in the Yard too. So she screwed on her most professional “eat shit and die” smile, extended her hand, which she knew would be ignored but would make her look gracious, inviting and the bigger woman, which was how one played the office politics game, and spoke. “I look forward to working with you.”_

_“Liar,” he muttered._

_Damn he was good._

_She’d be better._

She’d taken up smoking since his fall. Bad habit, she knew, but after one hangover from hell after too much wine, to the point even Hooper was worried, she’d backed off the alcohol. It wasn’t as though she’d been a social drinker anyway. She hadn’t any friends, really. Had sacrificed them for the job. Sacrificed more for the job than she’d cared to admit. Friends, love, happiness…

Footsteps sounded behind her on the roof. Not that she was bothered; probably one of the blokes coming to give their pointed two cents on her promotion. She didn’t even want to preface it with “well-earned,” though in many ways it was, and moreso than some of theirs, like Dimmock’s or others of the good old boys. They hadn’t had to live under Holmes’s shadow. They hadn’t had the stain of being fooled by Moriarty. They hadn’t had an office affair on their back with someone who went round the bend.

Bless Greg, was all she had to say. Had he not taken the brunt of everything at the risk of his own career, she might be a foot cop again for all she knew.

“Congratulations.”

She nearly choked on her exhale. Of all the voices she expected to hear behind her, _that_ particular baritone had not been it, especially sounding sincere. But...bygones should be bygones and all. “Thanks,” she said.

_“Lestrade, I have a lead,” she said, coming into his office, only to see his pet there. Typical. Might as well toss her lead out the window; Holmes probably had the case tied up with a nice, neat little bow, presented to Lestrade’s superior, and once again her work was down the drain._

_Hard work for nothing. And why should hard work matter when there was a genius on board the team?_

_Oh, right. No team. Holmes worked **alone** because no one could keep up with him and his freakish way of thinking. Was he even human? Did he ever eat? Drink? Go out and have a life?_

_Sleep, for Christ’s sake? She doubted he slept. Probably had a cord somewhere shoved up his arse he pulled out and plugged into a socket to recharge and did computations in his head while he slept._

_Freak._

_“What was that?” Holmes said sharply, glaring at her. The word must have slipped out, but it seemed to have hit a nerve. Maybe he had feelings after all, or at least a sore spot._

_Wonder what would happen if she hit that sore spot often enough? Maybe he’d go off and bother some other detective, give her a chance to make a name for herself outside of the boys club..._

Holmes came closer, ending up next to her with his forearms bracing the railing. He nodded towards her cigarette. “Tell me that isn’t low tar.”

“God no,” she said with a laugh. “Those are shit and anyone who smokes them is torturing themselves.” She could see his fingers twitching and she fished her pack out of her coat pocket. He took one with relief and she offered him her lighter. After a moment he lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, seeming to be at peace. “You needed one?”

He nodded, exhaling. “More than you know.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you, even after all these years,” she said, turning back to her own cigarette.

“We got off to the worst possible foot,” he said. “I was...arrogant. I still am, to an extent. But I made a judgment call those years ago that I was wrong about. You are extremely competent, Detective Donovan. You have earned this promotion. Had I not gotten in your way, you would have earned it long ago.”

She tapped the ash off her cigarette and then inhaled before exhaling slowly. “Probably. But maybe not. I was a fool to start something with Philip. You were right about that, though you didn’t need to make snide and public remarks about our affair.”

Sherlock nodded. “Fair point.”

“It’s a boys club, here. Stella Hopkins, me, a few others...there aren’t many women willing to brave it. Having you around didn’t help, I’ll admit. But it didn’t hurt, either. We all had to up our game.” She had some more of her cigarette. “It was only when you weren’t here they bloody noticed how much. And it helps that there was a push for more women in the ranks. But it’s a matter of timing and politics and a bunch of shite that I know you consider boring.”

“That game is more my brother’s field,” he said, nodding.

“He could have buried me,” she said. “I know he has that power. But he took an interest. Same as he took an interest in Philip after...everything. I know there was some nudging. Why?”

“Because, perhaps, there had been some wrongs done on both parts, and there should be an olive branch extended,” he said.

Sally raised an eyebrow. “A promotion to Detective Inspector is a hell of an olive branch, Holmes.”

Holmes shook his head. “That wasn’t the olive branch. The choice cases pushed Lestrade’s way, the lack of talk regarding your involvement in my supposed suicide...that was the olive branch. The promotion was due to your own efforts, Donovan.” He had some more of the cigarette. “There was time to think. Time to see what I had done. And I had a conversation with someone before I left, about what I was doing, what I was trying to accomplish. I was hurting people by what I did. We may not have been friends, Donovan, but you got caught in Moriarty’s web just as much as others did. If I left you to rot, I would not be the type of man the person I had talked to thought I was.”

“This person thought quite highly of you,” she said with an impressed look.

“She did,” he said. “I hope she still will in the future.” He took another drag of the cigarette and then stubbed it out on the railing. “Do me a favour, Detective Donovan.”

“I’ll keep an eye on Hooper,” she said, giving him a grin, one that grew wider when she caught his surprised look. “Who do you think Philip called at three in the morning with half-pissed ramblings about a snog with Hooper before you dashed off to save the world? I may have taken a long time to get this promotion, Holmes, but I am not as blind as you think.”

He shook his head and gave her a wave as he headed off. “Thanks for the cig,” he replied behind him.

She turned back and continued to look over the railing, bringing the cigarette to her lips again.

_“How can you be so sure he’s a good man, Greg?” she asked, crossing her arms and looking at Holmes survey the crime scene, once again in his street clothes, giving not one fuck about protocol. Typical. Always thought he knew best._

_“He has a heart, Sally. He does. It’s just...guarded. Someday someone is going to find their way to it, be it as a lover or a friend or something. Somehow. And we’ll see a whole new side of him.”_

_She scoffed. “A new side of the freak? I’ll take you out to dinner at Alain Ducasse if he and I have one single conversation where we don’t make a single snide remark towards each other. And I’ll top it off with the most expensive bottle of bubbly on the menu if he apologizes.”_

_Lestrade extended his hand to her. “It’s a deal, Sal.”_

She stubbed out her cigarette and pulled out her mobile. She supposed she’d have to see if she could secure a reservation for two for tonight if Greg was free...


End file.
